Just One More Mistake
by egochan
Summary: Ryou and Seto are stuck together and Ryou is trying his hardest to make the best of it. Unfortunately, Seto is making this very difficult. [SetoRyou] Chapter two up!
1. What Have We Learned?

**Disclaimer:** Ego still does not own Yu-Gi-Oh. If she did, there would be lots of changes right now. *commences to doing the Yami no Yuugi eye twitch* Oh, and she'd personally insist on the manga being cheaper. *goes back to twitching*

"Ahhh, anything, take anything but the REM!" *points to fic* An idea like this for me only comes around once every broken CD player.

**Note:** This fic takes place somewhere… *thinks back on the original plot and realizes she's almost forgotten everything* before the current anime arch with those three dragons in America. Heck, if you only know manga, pretend the manga Egyptian arch never happened. Yeah, the memories—Yami figured they weren't a big deal. You know, he's alive, he's got friends, what more does a guy need, right? *shrugs* The plot is after Battle City I guess. *considers this and how much trouble it happens to be for her to remember two plots at once* Awe, lets just say AU and leave it there. I'll try not to make too many conventional plot references. In fact, I won't try to make any. *breaks into a sweat and crosses her fingers* Yeah….

This would be longer, but my plot notebook is currently under a large pile of clothes I'm too lazy to move. People are glaring and I'm throwing pillows at them. Where has this taken me? I am now sans any pillows or small objects, staring at my brothers' socks on top of the pile. If I wait long enough, everything will deplete on it's own. The question is, can you wait that long? Read and decide.

Oh, and I was too lazy to get this betaed, gomen. The first paragraph won't italicize either….

~!~!~

Just One More Mistake

   "The back of the bus is simply fascinating. I have chosen this for my exposé since I found it the most interesting site of all. My belief is that the vehicle represents the school board and its willingness to part with some thousand's of yen to pay for the expenses of our class fieldtrip. Transporting a group of sixteen-year-olds years from graduation isn't an easy task, and it shows on the valiant bus we use. Long ago, before the first few hours of the trip, the back heater gave out and sent a resonant chill throughout the compartment not within proximity of the forward vents. I have sat there in the freezing cold, taking on each bracing wind with the bus as it rolls along hoping to one day stop pitching randomly left and right in the back wheels (which we should consider doing the favor of replacing the bolts on). I am sure I understand what it is like to be almost one with this amazing contraption pulling us along at a remarkable thirty miles an hour. From my chair I feel every shift in gear and every hopeless acceleration. I do believe I have bonded with the bus and will strive from now on to someday be able to drive her, packed full of students, on a fieldtrip to historical rural villages and interesting cities a few decades off metropolis. Believe it, this year's field trip has truly inspired me to be the best bus driver. I am glad to have kept my grades up so well to earn this time away from school and this wonderful dream for the future."

   "Okay, Bakura, save your report, I need the laptop back."

   I hit a few keys groggily and wait for the file to save. It's been an hour, and after two long days of this fieldtrip, that paragraph was all I could come up with for my going –to-be five-page report. The only memorable things I've learned throughout this educational experience are the value of a good coat and a few basic keyboard commands. I also have the cloth pattern of the seat in front of me memorized, but that's irrelevant.

   "_Now_, Bakura."

   I try not to get irritable at Kaiba's tone, which has begun to gnaw at my bearings of the passive optimist. I'm rational enough in my sleep-deprived vertigo to know snapping back at him isn't going to help any more than the florescent glow of the laptop has improved my eyesight. I stretch my hand nimbly across the keyboard to press another set of keys before handing the precious laptop back to an impatient owner.

   "About time."

   I sigh as I ignore this comment. Who cares what he has to say? He isn't angry with me, just at how long it takes my frozen fingers to type three words. I know some people would say annoyance with the speed of my typing is generally irritation directed towards me myself, but I don't. It's not my fault I'm cold, so I shouldn't be judged for it. It's something I can't control, is it not?

   Maybe Otogi is right when he says I am too optimistic for my own good? I'm sorry, that's just how I prefer to think. Otogi likes to tell me I'm going to someday pay for my constant denial in every non-positive situation. Frankly, I don't _care_, but I won't say anything. I simply let him tirade as long as he wants about how insane he thinks I am. Some of the things he's said have turned out to be very insightful and I appreciate it.

   "Five minutes till the next stop. Everyone have your bags ready to get out and to your hotel rooms. The faster you move the sooner you sleep." 

   I struggle harder to keep my eyes open after this announcement by the sensei in charge of managing all of us. I dimly see everyone pulling out bags and purses. I can hear Jounouchi and Yuugi trying to pull down Anzu's plumped duffle from an overhead compartment. I wonder just how much luggage she has those two toting around. It's their own fault for volunteering—or, at least, Yuugi volunteered and dragged Jounouchi along under the presumption of friendship. We all know Yuugi has too much of a height disadvantage to take care of all Anzu's bags on his own.

   And speaking of the duffle bag, what's Anzu got in there, a body? Even if she's brought fifty outfits, they're all too skimpy to take up much room.

   "Wait till everyone gets off before you take your baggage up, Bakura."

   "Hai." I agree, leaning back and closing my eyes again. I couldn't reach my stuff if I were to try anyway. In my lap is Kaiba's briefcase (locked) and a few papers he's been looking over for the past few hours. Previously there was a laptop as well. 

   Another thing I've learned this field trip: How to be an _excellent_ side table.

   "Okay, everyone off. Driver side first."

   I watch Yuugi-tachi get up and make their exit. I would really like to join them, my friends, and go off to my room to sleep, but I happened to have been placed with the coldest person in the class, Kaiba Seto. When I discovered this arrangement I kept asking myself why and worried. I have to worry about what Kaiba's capable of if I get him angry. We've had to share seats and rooms for this trip, and it's been very taxing on my mood, letting me know it would quite gladly kill my confidence if I were to give up in not letting these things bother me.

   "C'mon," Kaiba gestures towards the aisle, grabbing his briefcase from my seat and exiting. I reach and take my small sack of random supplies, following slowly. It seems I never really do walk fast, but if this bothers Kaiba, he graciously hasn't made a point of it. Still, everyone is inside the hotel lobby while I'm dragging my suitcase out of the baggage compartment of the bus, (the driver is watching me, a faint light of recognition in his eyes. Oh yes, the white haired boy whose speed is so low below zero he'll wind up walking backwards (surprising he isn't already). Two hundred yen says he'll repeat the pace tomorrow) finally getting everything straightened just in time to catch up with Yuugi-tachi.

   "Hey, Bakura-kun, having fun sitting next to Kaiba, or is the nightly sport of suitcase dragging your savior?"

   I frown at Otogi's question. Jounouchi seems to agree with me. He instantly begins to complain, only he isn't trying to dismiss the uniquely worded "gosh you're slow" comment about my suitcase.

   "I can't believe you've been put with Kaiba, Bakura! It isn't right. I get to sit by myself alone, having to split a two-bed room by three with Honda and Otogi while you're forced to stay with that baka for three days. We're friends, they could have put us together. At least I wouldn't make you carry my stuff the entire trip."

   I nod at Jounouchi's protest. Any support is well received, even if not completely wanted. Otogi grins though, finding it hard to take Jounouchi seriously.

   "Maybe Kaiba doesn't want to share two beds with three people?"

   "He could get his own room!" Jounouchi snaps, "He's damn well got the money!"

   This, of course, is a pebble forewarning of a landslide on its way. Lucky for it's residents, the extraordinary small, dice-shaped city of Otogi is immune to landslides. The same doesn't go for my ears.

   I unwillingly listen to the argument as it starts to intensify, Jounouchi angry (screaming his heart, lungs, and vocal folds out of commission) and Otogi amused (and apparently too far deaf to realize someone's yelling at him with the omniscience of a foghorn). I don't understand why Otogi does that, tries to get people riled up, painfully loud people like Jounouchi especially. He's civil enough most of the time and one of the many enthusiastic supporters that make up Yuugi-tachi. Still, he likes to bother Jounouchi and in the blonde's defense, I see no reasonable explanation.

   "Okay, everyone split up with your partners. I'll call names alphabetically and you can collect your room numbers for tonight."

   I wait patiently enough through Jounouchi and Otogi's argument, as my name is the third one called (the fact I even hear it is a surprise). Kaiba comes up and grabs the room cards from me almost as soon as I have them. I don't see the significance in being the one to keep track of such small slips of plastic, but apparently he does, so I'll leave it at that. I follow him as he heads for the elevator, insane on beating the mob gradually shifting the same direction. I'm practically grabbed by the neck and yanked in as the doors close. I take one final, helpless look at Yuugi-tachi before they are sundered from my vision by the thick, hideously wallpapered door.

   The way up is only three stories and should only take a few minutes at the most. Unfortunately, it isn't. Either the elevator is shooting for the zenith and we'll be reaching our destination in four hours, or it's the slowest machine of its kind. I know the school district can be stingy (I assure you, I wasn't expecting the _crème de la crème_ here), but if this is the best mode of transportation between floors this hotel could afford, I think I'll transfer before agreeing to another field trip.

   Kaiba is standing near the corner, silent and robotic. His indifference is excruciating to me. Out of every person in the class to be thrown in with, from close friends to Mary-sues, I'm stuck with my polar opposite. The condition of the elevator doesn't lighten my mood (or even affect Kaiba's). The wallpaper is a livid floral design certain to cause eye and brain damage with its extreme colors. Not only that, the light fixture completely contradicts the color scheme (well, I imagine there's a color scheme…somewhere). I don't know how much longer I can't take the tenseness of the small area. It's worse than Jounouchi's apartment and that's not a very good thing.

   Finally the elevator stops and the doors open. I check my watch to see that less than a minute had passed.

   That was the longest forty-nine seconds of my life.

   Kaiba is immediately on the move again, almost mechanical in his activation. He makes it to our room and opens the door without so much as a glance in my direction. I collapse into the doorway after him, depositing my luggage noisily over the entrance. Kaiba throws the lot a slight glance of disapproval and I'm left kicking everything against the wall to not congest a would-be traffic area. Of course, with Kaiba as the must monotonous of roommates, it doesn't make a difference. I could be rearranging the beds for a bit of _feng shui_ for all he cares, just as long as I don't mess with the table which he has currently set his computer consol atop. His "world" consists of a laptop, a few program disks, and papers from a briefcase. I know if I plan on sitting it's going to be on a bed or the commode as he's taken every chair for a mini workspace.

   After quickly choosing a bed to inhabit for the next eleven hours and changing into nightclothes in the mini bathroom, I try to make myself as comfortable as possible in the presence of an android not likely to move for a while. I sit down and gaze at the TV silently. Oh, believe me, it isn't _on_ or anything, I'm just watching the ever beguiling blankness of the "off" mode, letting my mind attempt to supply pictures. It's nine and I'm mentally running through all the shows this satellite dish could catch if I were to turn it on. It's kind of odd, how a hotel with slow elevators can afford such high standard entertainment. Maybe the school isn't that cheap.

   Imagine my disappointment as I discover that the TV isn't all that interesting. My attention is shifting from the bed to the walls, to the roof and all those unused drawers in the breakfront supporting the television. There are a few mildly interesting prints hanging from the walls, photographs of paintings locked under glass to the preserve the authentic two thousand yen quality. The bed covers have an unusual color field of red and white poppies. Oddly enough, they make me sleepy to watch. I lay back and critique the ceiling, discovering the tiles up there prove to be the very thing in which to occupy myself counting. I was never good with sheep, so speckled tiles will do.

   Suddenly the phone rings. It's an unattractive, disrupting sound that makes me yelp and roll comically off the bed. From the floor I hear Kaiba sigh at my clumsiness. I quickly try to get up and redeem a bit of my pride, but it's too far gone now to discern it's former holder in the distant horizon. I'm left with my face burning and wondering who is in the room directly downstairs, just in case I feel like burrowing into the floor. The phone is left to ring five times before Kaiba makes a dramatic show of reluctance and decides to pick it up. He doesn't commit himself to the hassle of answering, though. He simply drops it down again and swivels his chair back to the computer.

   After a slight pause the phone rings again. Persistent little bugger, eh? I suppose the other line really wants to talk with one of us. I look up nervously at Kaiba as I reach for the receiver. He shows no response, no acknowledgement whatsoever of what I'm going to attempt. Before I lose my nerve, I snatch up the phone and hold the receiver to my ear.

   "Moshi moshi?" {A}

   There's a bit of jostling on the other line and a few people cheer. I recognize the voices of Honda, Jounouchi, and Otogi in the background. There are more people, but Otogi begins talking and drowns them out.

   "Oi, Bakura, you having fun upstairs?" I frown. Yeah, loads…. "If not, Yuugi-tachi's downstairs in the dinning room. If we can get one more person down, we can convince the staff to let us have some of the continental breakfast early."

   "Oh Kami-sama! Otogi-kun, it's almost nine! Why are you all going to eat now?" I ask, severely past confused. Kaiba takes a moment to throw one of his infamous "looks" my direction and I remind myself to keep my voice down.

   "Because we can have it _now_, Mahout." {B}

   I'm sorry, I just don't see the logic of this nighttime eating jamboree.

   "Hurry up with the phone, it's distracting."

   I blink moronically at Kaiba who's suddenly decided to speak. Otogi is still pleading with me to come down.

   "Gomen, Otogi-kun. I'm tired." This is very true. "I just want to sleep."

   Otogi doesn't say anything to this. For a few seconds I'm shocked. I finally realize the phone has gone dead. I look up to see the limp wire in Kaiba's hand as he tosses it aside. I can't help but grow frustrated.

   "What was that for?"

   "Please refrain from speaking, Bakura. I'm busy."

   I watch Kaiba's resolute expression as he once again slips from reality and into his own world of finances and binary codes. If I were braver, I'd unplug his computer—well—if I were _stupid_ I'd do that, if I had a death wish. I am not though. I know arguing will not work because Kaiba will not listen. I know physical hostility will not work because I'm not a violent person. No, what I'm reduced to is an easy to ignore glare guaranteed to frighten weak hearted bunny slippers and Styrofoam cups made up into bucket head puppets.

   I lie back again and continue trying to count the ceiling tiles, more to calm myself down than anything. Soon the only sounds are my muttered math and Kaiba's lightening fingers as they try to type their way to some cut-off date and smoke it with a vengeance. I don't understand what occupies him so much. What possibly takes up so much of his time that he can't do anything else? Why'd he even agree to participate in this fieldtrip if he wasn't planning on doing anything? It isn't like he'll get brownie points for sitting through everyone's eager appreciation of our next stops. He could be making all his deadlines more efficiently at Kaiba Corp and I could have Jounouchi as my partner. Not only would I actually have information for my report, I would be finding it considerably easier to sleep without the light on.

   Well, unless I was dragged off to the midnight breakfast. 

   I still don't know the reason for that. Who's going to have muffins and cereal for a midnight snack when you can have it exactly the same in the morning like normal people? Maybe that's just something far too complicate for my ever-loosening grasp of that thing called practicality to convene towards a sensible excuse (even if I see no reason for why I think this. What _isn't_ practical about eating breakfast at the conventional time?). Jounouchi, Honda, and Otogi are well reputed for their appetites and the ability to destroy entire villages in a feeding frenzy (not too different from piranhas at the dinner bell). Maybe I need the mindset of one who frequently gorges on food (or whose mind often tends to think about such a thing) in order to really understand.

   I've never advertised myself as a realist though, so instead of coming up with anything that's, for instance, logical, I could maybe come back with a hundred eccentric explanations instead of something with the faintest hint of actuality. I believe in eating when you have to, not when at all possible. That's probably some of the logic that results in my acquiescence and rare attempts at self-indulgence. Of course, I'm not too sure if Jounouchi and those two are selfish or a bit too obsessive. Maybe they enjoy the irregular eating habits?

   A little voice in my head thinks not and tells me they're just your standard example of a sixteen year old, that the only reason I'm not so crazy about the same things is because I'm the one who's out of the ordinary. You always hear about the notoriously infinite depths that replace the stomachs of teenage boys, where stuff goes down and never really reaches the bottom till middle age. Either I don't share the universal image or Tousan's and my own cooking have hardened my unfortunate stomach beyond all trust.

   Alarming as it sounds, that could be it.

   "Here," Kaiba offers suddenly, swiveling back from the table, "You can work on your report while I get ready for bed."

   I look across the room at Kaiba's workspace as he gets up and takes his suitcase to the bathroom. Everything has been cleared away without my notice, the only thing left being the laptop.

   "Er, domo arigato." I thank slowly, creeping off the bed and sitting down. I quickly open my report file as Kaiba nods and closes the door. In less than a second, my first sardonic little paragraph is in front of me. I reread it all with a grim smirk.

   "Sensei's going to love learning about the bus." I mutter to the room, not loud enough to keep from being drown out by the noise of the shower running through the wall.

   ~~_I never knew you had such high expectations for yourself, Bakura. A bus driver, really, who would have guessed? And here you had me thinking you were more of the Egyptology type_~~

   I ignore this comment by the Sennen Ring spirit who has become less active and lusting for world domination these days. He's become more annoying, if anything, adding his own say in everything without warning or invitation. I keep reminding myself of the bright side that at least he's not hurting anyone. There have been no gaming incidents for quite some time now, which is a good thing. I just wish the spirit would stay in his reality and leave mine alone like it seemed he was going to do a few weeks ago.

   I find it difficult to think of anything on my report. Another voice has decided it wants to do all this for me. Before I'm half aware of what I've written, I have a second paragraph that isn't too different from its forerunner.

   "_Another thrill was those hotel rooms. Top notch, that place we had the second night. Elevator service was spectacular and everything was so tastefully decorated! The collage of several different styles in one block was startling in its sudden change from livid floral colors to muted blends and random settings done in an oddly unique attempt at avoiding the dullness of the flat monochrome you see in your standard rooms. I applaud the effort. It's surely a place I will never forget. You can look forward to my house being based after all of this. Forget Venice and its frighteningly beautiful watermarks, the chateaux in the Loire Valley are nothing, as this hotel has been the best of all. It is a gem of it's kind. I also hear, if you can get ten people downstairs, no matter what the time, you are served the continental breakfast. Is that great or what?_"

   I frown at how undersized and frivolous my report is sounding. I hastily choose to stop before it gets any worse, closing out the program and turning the computer off. I close the laptop and tiptoe back to my bed, under the covers and watching the wall as Kaiba silently reenters the room. I wait for the light to go out and him to slip noiselessly into his bed.

   Suddenly there's the unmistakable sound of Kaiba's briefcase opening and the laptop starting up again. I resist the strong urge to sigh loudly and try to distract the insomniac going back to work. The clock tells me it's past eleven.

   If I were with Jounouchi right now I'd probably be asleep, continental breakfast or no.

~!~!~

{A}: _Moshi moshi_ means hello on the phone. (I decide spacing was convenient and looked cleaner, but it's not necessary.) I've seen this spelt _mushi_, but I kind of really don't think that's it. *nervous grin* Heh….

{B}: _Mahout_ is elephant driver in Indian. Yep, the ever persistent pet name for Bakura-kun in all my fics wherever Ryuujis and Ryous come together. You people knew you'd see it eventually.  –Anyhow, I picture a nice Jack Sparrow like tone in that plea. "But we can have it _now_, Mahout." *optimistic grin* See? *people blink at her and step away*

**Endnote:** And that's the beginning…. Short, but to the point.

*blink* Well, I hope there was a point.

~Ling no Yong~


	2. Tempura

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Yugioh. Why? Because I could never draw Yami no Yuugi's hair in 30+ volumes. Believe me, I couldn't.

Erm, you can't believe I have a second chapter, can you? *grin* Ha, I'm not _that_ lazy. *looks nervously at her Ryuuji fics* Uh…HUZA! *cowers and hides*

**Thanks:** Relinquished for beta reading! *grin* Good thing my grammar wasn't too abominable. *looks around nervously* English was never my strong suit….

TeeDee: Thank you. I'm glad you love the first chapter. This might not be a really _strong_ Seto/Ryou, but it's cute and funny where it has to be. Plus, there's an Otogi POV later on.

Gyakutenno Megami1: Is the report unreadable? *seriously hopes you weren't referring to the entire chapter* Well, the report isn't suppose to be readable to a fault. That's exaggeration. But, if you were implying the entire fic, I will not apologise for my vocabulary. I suggest you highlight a word you don't recognise and press the D key for ff.net's dictionary/thesaurus feature.

Freai: Awe, thanks! It's good to know people appreciate the detail I put in. Here's a lovely update!

Pastbyer: Yay, it's nice to know my Japanese is correct. I think _mushi mushi_ meant "hot and humid" last time I checked (uh, forever ago?). So, I hope they were misspelling there. *nods with your original fiction comment* Yeah, you can't sell fan fiction.

Im Evil: I feel sorry for Ryou to. I'd like to say it gets better, but, uh…yeah….

Elle-FaTe2x1: I'm glad you're happy with this. Here's the next chapter to stay up for. It's, erm, longer….

rikki-the-fox: Thank you! It's good to know you'll look forward to these chapters. *grin* Wow, someone gets to sound older-sisterly besides me! *cheers* Now I just need to send you my little brothers…. 

~!~!~

Chapter 2: Tempura {A}

Nine twenty is the time any reasonable person should eat breakfast, free or no. I'm relieved that for the time being Yuugi-tachi has decided to follow these guidelines.

"Are you sure you're okay with sharp cheddar?" I ask, tentatively handing the re-sealable cheese bag over to Otogi, who's trying, with difficulty granted, to inhale a tiny hotel-manufactured omelet. I say manufactured because it looks hardly anything near real, and about as edible as a rubber shoe. I'm sure if I were to squeeze it, the yellow folds (of which look strangely like plastic) would bounce right back to shape. For an omelet, the egg and ham seems remarkably dry.

"Itai!" Otogi yelps, pulling his hand out of the cheese bag reflexively. I blink at this as he explains. "Wow, that cheddar really is sharp!"

I'm sorry I told him that, I really am. Anzu smirks into her cornflakes along with Jounouchi as I'm left the only one rolling my eyes. Now maybe if I had been sharing a room with Jounouchi, I would be in the proper lackadaisical mindset to find this even remotely amusing. Unfortunately (as I keep repeating with a tad more remorse each time), I _do not_ get to room, or evoke the "buddy" system, with anyone that would leave me so easygoing.

 "Otogi-kun…." I don't want to sound like the mother hen having the keep a check on Yuugi-tachi, but I'm afraid I'm not in any mood to do otherwise.

Otogi smirks at me, "Sorry, 'Kura, I didn't know you were 'lact-joke' intolerant."

I frown at the complete mindlessness it takes someone to come up with a pun like that. 

 "That was lame, Otogi-kun. I think you're sleep deprived."

 "Incorrect, I'm food deprived." How did I know he'd say that? "And you're people deprived."

"Nani?"

"Well, Kaiba's far from human."

For some odd reason, Honda breaks out into a merciless and consuming laugh, which I'm pretty sure has been repressed from a prior statement of the game inventor's. I watch almost apathetically as the suppressed amusement lets itself free in the most omnipotent exclamation possible. Through watching him I discover the veracity in the pleas during unbearable laughter such as, "Kami, I'm dying," "Why'd you have to say that, baka," and "I'll kill you for this, Otogi." Honda is laughing and screaming at Otogi, who is not shutting up and making things worse.

"Stop!" Honda begs, as Otogi has actually started tickling him. The hotel workers, who seem to think there is a brawl in the breakfast room, come running to separate the two. In a few minutes, Honda-kun is left chuckling softly as Otogi smirks from across the room. I'm too busy trying to rationalize what just happened.

What did just happen?

Otogi sits down again with several curious looks from those around the room. He commences to cut his food as though nothing has happened.

"So, what have you gotten for your report, Bakura-kun?" He asks, placing a bite of egg into his mouth and trying to chew the rubbery texture. I shrug. That file in Kaiba's laptop—that's not a report. No, that's me getting bored and discovering I really know nothing about all of the wonderful places we've visited.

"You know what, Bakura-kun?" What? "You ought to ask the sensei if he'll let you stay with Jounouchi today. I mean, you can room with Kaiba and look around with us. That way everyone's happy."

I nod at this, smothering the tickling scene in the back of my mind to the point I can convince myself it never happened.

"Hai, that'd be good."

"Of course it will. Otherwise you'd probably be stuck making stuff up for your report, or trying to convince the sensei of the irreplaceable value of the bus and how wonderful the hotels have been." I wonder if Otogi knows of my current "report." Maybe it's just a lucky guess? I highly doubt Kaiba would part with his computer long enough to have Otogi read a couple of documents.

"Um, yeah…." I mutter, quickly burying my attention into the shallows of my bran flakes.

That small annoying voice in the back of my mind chooses this moment to remind me that, not only do I not generally _enjoy_ bran flakes, they are also soggy beyond recognition or any form of matter fit for human consumption.

"Ten minutes, students. Be finished and on the bus in ten minutes."

I stand and push my bowl back, making my way towards the elevator to go upstairs and inform my listless partner it's time to leave. If today's going to be in any way interesting, I'd have to see Japan's 15 million dollar Bugatti 41 Royale drive past the bus. Other than that, well, I'm not expecting much. {B}

~@~

"I understand that last night there was a bit of difficulty with the food court administrators and a few of our students. I also understand there was a disruption this morning at breakfast with the same select students."

Yuugi-tachi looks nervously at each other. Otogi's apparently in serious denial. That's the only rational excuse for why he's smirking and twirling his hair as though the situation hasn't struck a familiar, grinding cord in his mind. I really don't think he realizes the sensei is angry with him.

"These students will be under my surveillance for the rest of the trip: Honda Hiroto, Mazaki Anzu, Motou Yuugi, Jounouchi Katsuya and Otogi Ryuuji."

All of my friends wince at this announcement except Otogi who has an amazing inability to care. He doesn't seem to be aware of the current reality.

"We will be reaching Tempura in fifteen minutes. {B} I want all of you on your best behavior once off the bus. Don't disappoint me. Each and everyone one of you represent Domino High and your decisions reflect on the reputation of the school. I don't want a repetition of the Kyoto fiasco." The sensei is very serious about what he's saying. I wasn't there to see the incident when we stopped at Kyoto the first day (just guess why), but I heard that Otogi had almost knocked a kid off one of the bridges by, as he said, "accident." The point of the matter wasn't whether he meant to or not. No, the sensei knew several people saw the brawl near one of the more famous landmarks and knew the fighters were visiting students. For this reason, Otogi and Honda had already been under surveillance the rest of the first day and now, with the breakfast and lack of civility in the hotel, Otogi probably isn't going to be invited on any more fieldtrips.

"Your fellow student, Otogi-san, has set a prime example of how _not_ to behave, and I hope none of you follow his behavior pattern." Several girls in the back of the bus cheer and applaud Otogi's effort. "The disregard for rules is not _funny_ or in any way_ cute_, no matter how immaturely humorous you may find the antics."

The sensei fruitlessly attempts to insult Otogi, but the whispers of an encore reverberate around the small bus and leave his words meaningless. The focus is on dynamic Otogi, who everyone loves, and his addictive enthusiasm. It's hard to believe if there's really a practical bone in his body, even when he's busy entertaining his fan club. He really is a decent person most of the time; he just doesn't come off that way to authority.

"Now, when we reach the town of Tempura, I don't want _any_ of you taking a leaf out of Otogi-san's book and act up. Remember, you were the best behaved second year class last semester, don't ruin your future chances at another opportunity like this." I'm nodding off slightly as the sensei turns around and orders the driver to exit the parking lot.

I wonder vaguely what my report will say. Maybe it will convince the teacher the buses are the best mode of transportation, or that you're standard cheap rent is just as good as any five-star hotel. Maybe he'll just read the first sentence, understand I learned nothing, and fail me. I should write about how I was restricted to the bus by my partner. Maybe then I'd get some sympathy?

The bus finally stops on the side of a long avenue and the sensei starts handing out lists of interesting sites within the three-block radius. Points of interest include a museum on the history of the shrimp industry (forget Kaiba, you know I'm going to sneak out to see _that_), a local shrine to a fisherman's pantheon, a few historic fish warehouses on the harbor, two noteworthy local stores, and of course, several fine restaurants serving tempura-style dishes. This place is like one would picture Domino before the big corporations came in, small and focused on its cash crop of fishing.

"Everyone, please exit the bus in an orderly fashion."

Students surrounding us shoot up violently and start shoving for the doors. The sensei's words are lost in their minds as the instinct to get free takes over.

Eventually the bus is empty save for the sensei cowering from the masses, the driver, and, to my pleasant surprise, Yuugi-tachi.

"Sir?" The sensei straightens and looks for Otogi, who's just spoken.

"Hai?"

"Can Bakura come with us instead of Kaiba? He can be Jounouchi's partner."

The sensei considers this suspiciously. "But wouldn't Kaiba be alone?" 

Kaiba, for some reason, is ignoring the conversation and fails to speak in his defense.

"I think he can manage himself." Otogi notes, looking over at Kaiba, who is talking on his cell phone about something or another. Indeed, if he can organize a company, he can certainly keep himself in check.

"All right," the sensei finally agrees, "but one of you will have to stay on the bus with Kaiba." Kaiba, too busy talking on the phone, fails to state any preference. "How about Jounouchi?"

Anzu-chan, Yuugi, and Honda almost laugh out loud, but the sensei fails to recognize this.

"Bakura can only go if he trades places with Jounouchi." 

The sensei must really need help. Only someone who's lost a considerable amount of his or her mind would come up with such a plan.

"Nani?!"

"You all heard me. We have to keep a buddy system and Kaiba, like or not, is a part of this system and cannot be left alone."

Oh Kami-sama, he makes it sound like we've gotten eight years marked off our lives. Why can't I suddenly become younger after I turn thirty-five? This is very uncalled for.

"Well, Bakura, we tried," Jounouchi shrugs, making to get off the bus. I watch in horror as the great supporter/protector of Yuugi-tachi simply gives up on me.

"Just where do you think you're going, inu?" Otogi asks, grabbing the back of Jounouchi's coat, "I think this is a group decision."

Jounouchi glares slightly. It's just dumb luck Kaiba is _still_ oblivious; otherwise, in any voting circumstance, he would out rule us.

"Okay, all for leaving Jounouchi in the bus and allowing Bakura at least an hour of freedom this field trip, say hai."

"Hai." Yuugi is a savior.

"Hai." Honda too.

"Hai." I love Anzu-chan.

"Hai." Good ole' Otogi-kun.

"Iya." Well, who said Jounouchi's vote mattered anyway?

"Exactly," Otogi nods, "Have fun, Jounouchi."

I jump off the bus with Yuugi-tachi, as Otogi releases Jounouchi. The sensei, who's been patiently waiting outside, figures Jounouchi decided to stay and before he can make it out, the door is closed.

"Jounouchi, hope you have fun with your 'buddy'." Honda smirks, displaying a slightly sadistic side I have never seen in him before.

I try not to feel guilty as we leave the angry blonde behind in one of his personal Hells. I'm about ready to start making bets with Yuugi-tachi on what the chances are the bus will still be there when we get back in order to retain a tad of my natural optimism. It's very obvious my self-preservation instinct is shining dim, as Jounounchi is going to kill me. The wrath of that certain blonde isn't easy to avoid or escape. I can't say with certainty that this thought is a comforting one, or that it doesn't leave me at least a bit apprehensive. The normal tranquility of the town around me is cruelly disrupted with thoughts of what will happen when I get back. I haven't failed to mention Jounouchi's certain "gift" when it comes to a formidable scolding. He's bound to feel betrayed, which means no form of diplomacy (convention or grappling match) is going to save me. I don't think Kaiba would forgive me either. There's a foreboding air in the fact that I truly have no idea what an angry Kaiba is capable of. This might as well be the last hour of my life.

"Bakura, lighten up. It's too early in the day to brood."

I rouse my mind back to reality as Honda-kun attempts to shake me, probably thinking he'll force my senses to fall into place.

"Oi!" I don't think that's necessary. Can't he see I'm awake?

"Ooo, look! It's a doll shop!" Anzu cheers and points to a window, where several geisha dolls stare out at us. I'm taken aback slightly by the amount of these in such a simple town. In Kyoto there were more, yes, larger displays with all the different sized dolls, each more elaborate than the last. Anzu has a unique fondness for them and can spend hours upon hours looking over each one and still not purchase anything. She also has the power to drag us all after her and inside to study the rest.

Otogi and Honda roll their eyes as we enter after Yuugi and Anzu. The sensei is watching the group and thus we are forced to stick together. I don't believe his first choice for our stop would have been a shop with many valuable representations of one of the country's fine arts (all being within easy destruction range).

"This fan dancer is lovely!" Anzu compliments, pointing to one of the dolls with the most intricately combed black wig I've ever seen. Eighteenth century France would have been proud.

Otogi studies one figure, another fan dancer, with a distant, bleak expression, like he's been unwillingly pulled into the shadow realm within proximity of ten hungry monsters. Honda, so bored he's compensating with immaturity, looks over his shoulder at the sensei before reaching out a finger slowly to stroke the ghost-white forehead of a shogun lord.

"Honda-san."

The sensei is frowning across the room and waving his finger warningly. Honda backs innocently from the doll and continues wandering among the other similar wares. Across form him; lacking any (if not all) artistic enthusiasm, Otogi is rapidly becoming bored. For him, you see one geisha doll; you've seen them all. He's ever so slowly inching towards the door, trying in vain to herd Anzu the same direction.

"Really, Anzu, you can look at the dolls back home. They're just as nice." Otogi tries to coax Anzu away from the shelves. He might as well be burning down an igloo for all the attention his effort is receiving. Honda, tiptoeing down a small aisle, is making an effort to walk through the shop without brushing the slightest treads of silk and brocade. It's almost comical, his attempt. I don't know who's wallowing in more personal realizations of how tedious and pointless this whole thing is, Honda or Otogi.

"Look at the lovely fan. The minute details are amazing!"

I hear Anzu's exclamation faintly as I make my way to the back of the shop. I've decided I'll have a quick look around instead of forcing myself to watch Honda and Otogi's agony. I don't believe the doll shop is too bad. Sure, I wouldn't walk down the street and figure I wanted to visit, but it isn't like the place is some remote corner of Hell. Maybe Otogi is interested in that museum about the history of the shrimp industry and wants to beat the crowds?

I doubt that—well, the crowd part anyway.

"Is this real gold thread?" I hear Anzu ask, muffled through the layers of dolls and cloth separating us. I look shortly at the ones near me in the back, where I suppose Anzu will find her way in due time. The dolls here aren't as flashy as those in the window. A couple of hat dancers are posed almost across form each other, purely by accident it seems. It gives the effect they are both trying to act out an artificial attempt at a transaction that isn't going to happen. I hear foot tall hat sellers don't make a lot (must be the fact no one's small enough to use their wares).

Further down are a few child dolls with innocent, round faces. They appear almost as little Asian cherubs, answers to which country has the most beautiful babies. I smile down at one, whose red cheeks have nothing on my own. Besides a lack of tri-colored hair, it doesn't fail to dimly remind me of (a considerably younger) Yuugi-kun. Next to him is a venerable old woman, who, by the thick layer of dust over her kimono, is probably about as old as she was crafted to appear.

As I make my way to the end of the shelf, I can no longer hear Otogi pleading with Anzu. For a few minutes this doesn't strike me as peculiar until I realize that, distance or no, Otogi's voice diffracts very well. If he's not complaining anymore, he's either changed his personality completely or Yuugi-tachi has exited the shop before Anzu could see _everything_.

I naturally begin to panic as I hurry back toward the door. I try to remember if I know the way back to the bus, realize I don't, and let my anxiety get worse. It's no wonder I finally end up crashing into something.

"Gomennasai!" I yelp, falling back from what I just hit. For a few seconds I'm terrified I've disrupted some of the shop's valuable merchandise. I look up nervously and wince.

Well, it's not a geisha doll, but I did just have a nice collision with Domino's most expensive CEO.

"Kaiba-kun?" I stutter, a bit surprise to see him so, er, out of the bus for once.

"There you are! I've been looking for you, Bakura."

I blink up at the slightly irate Kaiba, confused. Looking for me?

"But where's Yuugi-tachi?" I ask slowly, still sitting on the ground. Kaiba shrugs slightly at my question.

"Eating tempura-style shrimp? That's all this town seems to be famous for."

I blink at Kaiba's slightly cutting remark. My mind gyrates in time to an unbalanced lightheadedness, which I believe is from my unexpected trip to the shop floor. I quickly summon the little strength needed to stand and fire another question before completely organizing my thoughts.

"What are you doing here?" This comes out a bit harsh, but it's now impossible to bring it back. Like I said, I haven't organized my thoughts so much yet to be logically irrational—if that makes any sense.

"The inu was paired with me and I reversed it."

For a moment, my mind is amazingly blank as Kaiba's words slowly begin to etch out what's happened. If he reversed the partners, that would mean Jounouchi is the third member of Otogi-Honda and I'm once again with Kaiba. My mind starts screaming one of those overly dramatic NNNNOOOOOOO!'s (in the preferred slow motion) at this amazing insight.

NNNNNNNNNNOOOOOO… 

"Nani?"

_…OOOOOOOOOO…_

"Yuugi-tachi left ten minutes ago, Bakura. You're with me again." Kaiba explains slowly.

Can't really say I'm listening.

_…OOOOOOOOOO…_

"Huh?" I slur cleverly in my fathomless depths of intuition and tact.

_…OOOOOOOOOO…_

"Don't act like an idiot, Bakura. You've seen a bit of the town, now lets go back to the bus." Kaiba sighs, motioning towards the door.

_…OOOO_—Wait, what was that? Since when was only a doll shop "a bit of the town"? What if I want to see more? Maybe I want some tempura fried crab or something before I leave? The sensei might ask questions if I only write about buses, hotels, and geisha dolls.

"Bakura, this town has nothing. There's not even a decent bank."

Kaiba is frowning at his goal, the door. I'm trying to understand just what having a bank or not means to him. Maybe the whole seat of Kaiba's financial superiority rests in his proximity to places where he can call for money.

"C'mon, lets go."

I don't move as Kaiba motions towards the door yet again. He sighs at me like I'm an idiot and need to be shown the way out. After a few futile attempts, he realizes he's not getting through.

"Kaiba-kun," I finally say, trying to keep my voice steady. For some reason or another it wants to speed out and up in a high, twittering mumble, hardly audible. I must concentrate to rein it in and still remember what to say, which just happens to be something I find difficult.

"I do not want to sit in the bus for the next thirty minutes, Kaiba-kun. I need information for my report and if I at least write about Tempura like it completely awed me, the sensei will forgive the paper for not spotlighting everything else."

I managed this explanation quite nicely. I'm even surprised at how it came out, just straight and to the point. Kaiba, apparently not appreciating my amazing effort, scowls. Still, that doesn't make what I said untrue. He knows that. Maybe his strategic mind will take a compromise?

After a moment or two of silence, Kaiba decides to reply, "All right, you can see a bit more around Tempura, but afterwards I don't want to here you complain about not having any information."

I nod willingly. I supposed it'd be a bit too much to ask to stay with Yuugi-tachi then, since Kaiba seems to be forcing himself to agree with me as logic dictates. I suppose it could be worse, He could say no and physically force me back to the bus, acting clueless to how I know nothing when the reports are handed back. Kaiba could probably find out every interesting detail about all the cities we've visited easily through different sources or via the Internet.  I know this would, in no way, help me. I'll be the idiot even if Kaiba was the one not wanting to leave the bus. He might be good at lying and making up all the stuff he did, but I'm not. I like to take a straightforward approach without complicating myself in a thread of lies I'll have to remember, in case the sensei decides to reiterate one of the places I apparently "visited." My mind hasn't been trained for that kind of thinking, which is why I'm a terrible liar in the first place. I don't plan on fine-tuning the skill. Why cover your tracks with something you're not too great at anyway?

~~_You can always blame your psychopathic yami, people would believe that_~~

I sigh at this. That's because, half the time, the reason _is_ my psychopathic yami. Whenever the white haired boy sends someone to the shadows or kills something innocent, it isn't Bakura Ryou. No, if Bakura's anything but passive and quiet-natured, it cannot _be_ Bakura.

Still, I'm not too sure the sensei will accept that.

"Oh, your psychopathic yami, Bakura? Let me guess, his dog ate your homework, right? Does he live next-door to tooth fairy or across the street?"

I frown at this and start reading labels to develop a slight knowledge on the geisha doll. I learn quickly the dolls represent the geisha (which pretty much went without saying in the first place) and what postures and outfits represent the fan dancers. I read a few non-geisha children and men, and learn what the colors and patterns on their kimonos symbolize, from white cherry blossomed funerals to regal dragons. Each fact is packaged and stored into my mind for later use in the report.

Kaiba is looking uninterested over the porcelain faces as well. He glances indifferently over the eighteen-inch woman dressed in a forest worth of furs and fingers a bit of silk that brushes his arm for lack of a better occupation. I pause for a moment as I realize this is the first time I've ever seen Kaiba-kun look so, well, bored. I quickly turn back to the dolls before he suspects my mild scrutiny and wonder why he isn't making me leave? I imagine Kaiba to get what he wants and never compromise unless completely necessary. He should know all he had to do was tell me we were going and drag me out. I don't put up much of a fight.

"Bakura, unless you want to write your entire report on dolls, I suggest you hurry up and move on."

I find myself agreeing to this, the submissive side of me trying to resurface. Of course, it's the submissive side, so it should be easy to push right back down, only it doesn't really give a damn about what I could threaten. My oaths are generally mild and wrap up with no results in my favor. In fact, I'm famous for never standing up for myself. I doubt people even believe I try any more. I do try; it just isn't so glamorous as before. Sacrificing yourself earns nods of approval, but once it becomes unnecessary, people become twitchy and nervous, wondering what is going to happen next with that neurotic fiend in your mind running after the Sennen Items. It isn't a very comfortable atmosphere to be in.

"C'mon, you can sample the tempura here and consider yourself all the more worldly for it." Kaiba suggests as we walk down the street. I nod at this as he points silently to a near restaurant with the town's namesake over the door. We enter and Kaiba arranges seats at the U-shaped bar. We're soon waiting for our lunch to fry.

I observe the cooking technique used for the tempura. The chef flips the batter-covered bits of fish and vegetables into the fryer and waits for everything to cook. I give Kaiba a short glance as he chooses which course he wants first. I don't offer a suggestion towards any of my favorites and let Kaiba decide on everything. I still feel taxed by the fact I'm even here to begin with, and am desperately trying to find the kind of details that would make my visit in some way worthy of transcription so I won't be caught in a similar situation in the future. All I can see are prawns waiting to be fried. Maybe I could make an interesting memoir-like bit on how I've had to learn the difference between prawns and shrimp in living with Tousan, who tends to confuse them when buying groceries. Prawns are much larger and hardly shelled. You'd think they were still alive at first glance, when they happened to still possess eyes. It was one of the creepier seafood Tousan brought home and then realized he had no idea how it was prepared. He tried anyways, making a fried fish alamode that tasted anything but. Unlike the tempura chef in front of me, Tousan insisted on a thick crust of batter and left me completely sure he was a pie person and nothing else. His best works were pies and his fried food took after them. The tempura chef, however, seems completely knowledgeable on what he's doing and promptly removes the frying food at its moment of fried perfection and drops it onto a sheet of absorbent paper. I watch hungrily and remember I didn't exactly finish my bran flakes this morning. For this reason, I choose not to ruin the mood as the food is served, by looking at Kaiba. He's most likely as apathetic towards this as anything and so far jaded as to not even eat. He'd probably signal for me to hurry up and inhale the food already so we can leave sooner. He likes to economize and what is a better way than to hurry up here and have more time for his paperwork later?

Unfortunately, I believe in a thing called chewing, and it's not my fault Kaiba is a tragic workaholic.

"Why are you eating so slowly?"

"I'm chewing."

"Slowly?"

I'm annoyed at this and Kaiba's unwillingness to sample the local cuisine. I've been given no reason to believe the chef poisoned our food. It's really very good.

"Maybe you should try some, Kaiba-kun?" I suggest, not entirely convinced he'll even listen. Kaiba looks at me suspiciously and I feel like frowning. Tempura isn't like _fugu_, there's no small chance you'll die from it.

Much to my surprise, Kaiba takes up his chopsticks and grabs a small shrimp. Since I'm a very controlled person, I do not leap up and whoop at my victory. I smile slightly and that is all. I mentally cheer for myself in a muted tone, not wanting to impose the fact too harshly that I succeeded in making Domino's most elite eat tempura. I'm sure he would've had some anyway, as it all smells very delicious.

Kaiba goes for another piece, and I can't help but let my grin widen. He frowns at me over his plate.

"This is breakfast," he states with a slight growl. I nod and hurry back to my own eating, not wanting to be too obnoxious. I notice then that if I keep eating at my current rate, Kaiba will easily finished before me. I speed up slightly, wanting to finish but not wanting to look like I'm gorging. For all my effort, I'm still beaten and have to leave behind a few shrimp and carrots. Kaiba's plate is clear and that implies we're going right now.

"There, do you think you can stop being difficult and come back to the bus?" Kaiba asks as we leave the restaurant. I don't accept his phrasing of me being difficult, but don't retaliate. There's no point.

"Hai."

Kaiba seems to prefer this answer. It's obvious I'm wasting his precious time for doing whatever it is he's supposed to be doing instead. Well, sorry if I don't want to lie my way through the grade and fail. I'm not going to let myself go so low.

"Stop," Kaiba orders, suddenly halting.

"Wha—?" I crash into him again and jump back. Kaiba awards me one if his "what's wrong with you?" looks before turning back to whatever his distraction was. I blush and avert my eyes nervously to a rather suspicious looking ant crawling by.

"The bus isn't here."

I watch the ant a little longer before I translate the horrifying announcement.

"Oh…"

That's possibly the best answer I can formulate right now.

~!~!~

{A} Tempura: Yeah, I made that up. I now officially invoke my amazing artistic license. I mean, who's heard of the Domino metropolis in Japan? I have the right to make a small town, don't I? *random plot enthusiast glare at the location of Tempura* Beach front property? Oh that's rich!

{B} Bugatti 41 Royale: The most expensive automobile ever purchased, by the way, last time I checked.

**Endnote:** So many long paragraphs. Gomen if anyone fell asleep…. *props up readers more comfortably in front of their computers and shakes hands of parents overjoyed to tears at the fact their children have finally decided to sleep instead of reading fan fiction till midnight*

Heh, yeah…. It's the least I could do….

~Ling no Yong~


	3. Gone

**Disclaimer:** I kinda don't own Yu-Gi-Oh. In fact, my opinion about the show carries very little weight to those who produce it. *glare* I'm not going to let that bother me.

**Thanks:** To Relinquished for beta-reading this chapter. She has an amazing amount of time on her hands, that's for sure. But then, this chapter isn't that long. It can't be too bad, can it?

Gomen all the people I didn't thank last update. As some of you may know, ff.net was engaged in the process of going insane. I had almost one hundred e-mails, all the same few. *grins at Renee the Rabid Squirrel, Sachi-chan, JudyNFran, Maruken, and evilcourtney* Wow, I saw you guys names a lot. *dissolves*

Sachi-chan: You actually like my characterization of Yuugi-tachi? *cheers* I'm glad I did _something_ right! Thanks!

Renee the Rabid Squirrel: Heh, some people had issues with that report…. *grin* Btw, there was a part in "The Secret Window" where Johnny Depp is looking accusingly at a squirrel before passing out. I dunno, your name reminded me of it at the moment. That was an awesome movie.

TeeDee: It's good to know people like what I write. Thank you. Also, don't worry about the negative endnotes. It's just BSing anyways because I'm big on self-derogative humor.

Freai: Thank you. Here's another sort of suspenseful ending then!

FyreFlie: A vehicle made of fried veggies and shrimp; hmm… you may just be on to something there. *grin* You could eat and drive at the same time! *optimistic about all of this* Here's the next chapter then, if you want to read it. Gomen there's no tempura made products.

Maruken: Yeah, Seto/Ryou has been done actually (don't worry, I wasn't too aware of it either). Lets see if I can make it work. Here's the update!

Rikki-the-fox: Yes, the brainchild of a caffeinated authoress at four in the morning: the 'no' gag. Good to know it's appreciated! Thank you.

Pastbyer: Get ready to feel explained: There isn't a whole bunch of logic behind food names I guess. You probably can't find tempura because it originally isn't even Asian. The origin of the cooking and all that was Portuguese. _Tempora_ meant times in Latin, and had to do with days the Portuguese wouldn't eat meat (them being devote Catholics), called Ember Days, or _Quattuor_ _Tempora_ (the 'four times' of the year). They would eat fried shrimp on those days instead, which is how the Japanese started frying food, and why they named the process after the Latin word for 'times'. *grin* I hope I'm not boring you…. I figured you'd like to know. Thanks for the compliments btw. Here's chapter three!

JudyNFran: I'm glad you consider this a great find! I appreciate the compliment. *cringes and turns white* Heh, you may not want to poke at _too_ many of my other fics there. Some are better by far than others…. *looks around nervously* Erm…yeah….

The lady winged Knight. S: *dizzy from being shaken* Wow, I'm awake. Here's what happens next. *anticipating another shaking*

Shrine Maiden Kitty: I've hear of Ranma 1/2, but haven't got around to reading it. *broke* I'm thrilled you like all my fics. It's good to know. Thank you.

evilcourtney: Don't worry, I find it funny too. Isn't it tragic, though? *sarcastic* Yeah, pairing can really mess you up, man. They addle your brains.

Windswift: *laughing* Gomen, Ryuuji may not redeem himself anytime soon. He's got a nice POV here though. Kudos for him then, eh? *pats chapter on the head* Wait a kawaii little fic.

Elle-FaTe2x1: I hope Ryou lives too. *looks nervously at her main character*

~!~!~

Chapter Three: Gone

"Uh, maybe it's a few blocks down?" I offer, optimistically praying and hoping Kaiba Seto is wrong for once in his life. I sincerely doubt my wistful thinking, but I wouldn't say no to it coming true sometime soon. Kaiba looks at me as though I ought to gravely consider enrolling myself into a mental hospital. I almost agree.

"Bakura-kun, I have a photographic memory. The bus is _gone_."

Oh… well that sure changes things a little…. From what I've learned through television and literature, you simply can't question the accuracy of a photographic memory. Kaiba has to be right then. I'm now going to consider whether it was possible for a troop of ants to carry off the bus. I narrow my eyes at their nearest insect comrade and speculate.

"That's…bad…." I say pointlessly, retreating to the role of Captain Obvious. Judging by Kaiba's expression, he must be seriously considering my intelligence—or more, my lack thereof. I'm convinced he's suffering from the mental strain of a most proficient refusal to accept the situation. That, or he's contemplating how exactly to handle this. These two ways of dealing are actually quite opposite, so, since I'd more than willingly go into temporary denial, Kaiba's probably solving the problem.

Good for him, then.

After a few minutes (which happen to be the longest of my life, outside the elevator yesterday), Kaiba pulls out a mysteriously concealed cell phone. We're saved! I'd cheer and jump, like I've lost the what's left to my already embarrassingly small supply of sanity, only there are people nearby watching. Instead, I awe at how well Kaiba is taking everything, along with all of the responsibility he must accept in my own little deficiency. If I were watching from a distance, I'd have no idea two teenager boys had missed the bus home and were stranded in the worst smelling city in the country. In fact, I wouldn't think anything of them except for wondering just what the hell is wrong with that white hair boy, who's screaming about being delivered and blessed and is kissing a cell phone, while a nearby brunette threatens to pummel him.

Not implying that I'd ever do such a thing, of course. I can get excited and thankful on my own terms, which don't happen to be so extreme.

"Bakura-kun, stand over there or something and try not to make a scene." Kaiba orders with a certain, unquestionable authority, and points towards a stone bench. I look at him, clueless.

"Why?"

"Maybe because I don't want you in on my conversation?"

"Oh." I nod and sit down. 

I don't know what about calling a cab, or one of his many limos, is so personal to Kaiba. I'd happily dial up at a public pay phone with fifty people in line listening. Calling a cab isn't some private display of your lack in any other transportation. Even if Kaiba were finding out the bus schedule, it wouldn't be that secretive (though I'd sooner jump in front of a bus than board one for the next few months as I try to coax myself into forgetting a few former experiences). Of course, there is Kaiba's terrific reputation to consider. He probably has to make some kind of privacy negotiation where nobody mentions the fact Kaiba Seto had to take a cab home. Being a rich CEO, people generally don't expect Kaiba to pull up in some form of public transportation. Even I think it would an unusual occurrence to witness. I'd look up at the clouds and wait for the sun to blow up because such a thing could never ever happen unless the world were ending in Tokyo and Kaiba just happened to be escaping in a cab since his limo was destroyed by a meteor.

And on that point, Mokuba would probably be ecstatic. The kid has an odd taste for violence. The world (or at least the country) blowing up would probably make him laugh till he realized the destruction was steadily growing closer to his front door. Whether he'd panic or have his brother pull out a top-secret spaceship to contact colonies on the moon, I'm not too sure. It'd be pretty amazing if there _were_ colonies on the moon to begin with. I could live up there.

I'm not thinking it'd be too difficult for me either. My head spends loads of time in the clouds as it is.

Coming back down to the current situation now, however, I can see Kaiba not so far away in the distance. He is not looking up at the sky and watching meteors piercing the atmosphere. If I were listening, I could hear what he's saying because, believe it or not, he's _still_ on the phone. I'm not sure he'd even notice the world ending anyway.

Talk much, Kaiba-kun?

I wonder whether I ought to say something, or quietly study the amazing lack of grass and plant life in this part of the city. If Kaiba takes any longer, I'm going to go to the public phone a few shops away. I won't stop to consider the consequences. Kaiba can get back to Domino on his own terms, and I can too. Pulling out some change and solving my problem is looking very appealing while I wait for the conversation that's never going to end to wrap up in the next decade.

I stand up and start walking to the phone, deciding Kaiba can take care of himself well enough without me anticipating his every decision and hoping things transpire the same way in reality as they did theoretically. I really just need to get to a train station and I'm set the rest of the way back. It's really not that mammoth of a problem. Tousan rehearsed with me over and over what I was supposed to do in the circumstance I should be lost somewhere. I admit, I never really thought the instance would arise, but it looks to me like it has. I just hope I was listening enough in my bored disbelief of such a thing ever happening to me and am not just making plans of action up as I walk towards the pay phone. In a worst-case scenario, that would not be good. It would be easy to make myself even more lost, and who wants that?

Fortunately, I find my way to the phone without a problem (yay). I can no longer hear Kaiba talking, but this is because I have just expanded the gap between us considerably. I don't truly mind, nor care, as I reached into my pocket for change. Suddenly someone comes up behind me and I freeze. There's a knife centimeters from my throat.

"Money, kid?" {A}

On second thought, maybe I should have stayed on the bench.

~!~!~

"You can hang there all day Jounouchi, you aren't going to prove anything to anyone."

Jounouchi glares from the railing and sticks his tongue out with about the maturity of a five-year-old. Honda sighs and looks around helplessly, not sure what to do. I come up to save the situation.

"Just what are you proving by hanging there, Jounouchi? Not much is happening, except you look like an idiot. Congratulations. Will you come down now?"

Jounouchi glares. I shake my head and continue, "You know, I've seen dogs with half a brain protest authority better than you."

"I'm not pissing on a fire hydrant."

"I know, it's worse."

"Why you little—" Jounouchi takes an off-balanced, upside-down swing at me and plummets. I look down at him sprawled over the pavement steps in mild curiosity and amusement.

"You missed." I state obviously. Jounouchi frowns back up and growls. I'm not sure if this is supposed to entice some sort of fear or make me fall over laughing. I'm leaning towards the latter and smirk in return to his vindictive feelings.

"You're an idiot."

"But note: It wasn't _I_ leaning off the museum staircase railing. At least I'm not _insane_."

Honda rolls his eyes and butts into the banter, "Well, that stands to question, Otogi. What where you on the railing for anyway, Jounouchi?"

"Protesting."

"What?"

"The fact I'm stuck with you guys as partners."

Honda's expression falls significantly at Jounouchi's reason. Apparently he's offended. I don't see why he should be; he's only played the inu's lackey for two years. All right, so maybe the fact Jounouchi is transgressing from their formerly close friendship is a bit of a downer, but I'm here, so it can't be that bad. Plus, Jounouchi is never going to have Bakura Ryou as a partner for this trip. The leading points 'he's angry' and 'he's Jounouchi Katsuya' will make the great egotist Kaiba refuse. Kaiba's stubborn to the point of obnoxiousness, and Jounouchi isn't the sharpest of wits behind some rather violent impulses. I'm not sure Bakura would agree with either. It's sad. Things don't go his way often, do they?

Bakura, that is. Not Jounouchi or Kaiba.

"Don't worry, Honda!" I say enthusiastically, seeing his still slightly dejected face, "Jounouchi's still immaturely sore with us at how we put him with Kaiba. The behavior is completely juvenile."

"Says the same guy causing reckless mayhem the entire trip? Oh, you're real mature Otogi-kun," Jounouchi snaps sourly. He starts up the steps to the museum, deciding he'd rather catch up with our babysitter than stay near Honda and me. Of course, we don't follow and ignore this action until the sensei starts screaming for us to hurry up. I'm not convinced to move until Anzu joins in. Unlike the upstanding and official educator, she's pulling out death threats like a pumped yakuza on steroids. Knowing Anzu, I'm not about to question the veracity of these warnings. The girl's got the potential to be lethal if she sets her mind to it. I don't know what Yuugi sees in her, really, the frightening butch assassin.

"It's about time you guys caught up. We've been waiting here forever. What were you hanging from the rail for, Jounouchi-kun?"

Jounouchi's confidence from before suddenly wavers, "Ano…ore…." Lucky for him (or not), he's got me here to explain it for him. "Oh, he was protesting."

"Protesting what?" Anzu asks, giving Jounouchi a look. The inu pleads wordlessly for me not to go on. Unfortunately, this is too much fun (in an odd, sadistic kind of way, mind you).

"Protesting the wonderful set up of Sensei's where he shares rooms and seats with Honda and me. It seems he'd prefer Bakura."

"_Again?_" the Sensei sighs in exasperation. We turn as one to look at him. "All right, I'm tired of this. Where's Kaiba-san? I'm changing the seating arrangements. This is wasting too much of my time."

We look at the sensei in stunned silence. He gave…. I can't believe it.

"Are you serious?"

"If it will stop all this pathetic complaining, yes!" he exclaims, aggravated to the final stroke. It's amazing. Jounouchi's protesting and hanging from a public railing finally won him his way. Maybe the inu knows what he's doing?

No, I take that back. Jounouchi looks about as awed as the rest of Yuugi-tachi.

"So…lets find Bakura-kun, then…." Anzu says slowly. "He's on the bus…right?"

"Hai…."

Everyone heads back to the bus. Jounouchi all but bolts in, ready to announce his victory to the stuck up billionaire. The jubilant expression on his face freezes, however, as he looks back. Following close behind, I soon see why.

Kaiba isn't there. Neither is Bakura.

"Whoa, where do you guys think those two went? I thought Kaiba only left the bus to catch up with us back in Tempura. Why would he change his behavior?" Anzu ponders aloud, bringing into words exactly what all of us are thinking. Of course, we don't consider Bakura having a hand in this. Kaiba's the one in charge there.

"Maybe they're looking around?" I offer sensibly, "I mean, we have to write a five-page report when we get back."

Everyone nods with this and how plausible an explanation it serves. Anzu decides we should all wait for Kaiba and Bakura to come back. Since nothing else seems so interesting at the moment, we unanimously agree to say. A few comments and an hour later, students start coming back. The rest of the class assumes we got ourselves in serious trouble this time as they pile in. I smirk and wave to a few groups, though I have no idiot deed to be proud of. It just seems to right thing to do until we drop the bomb on Kaiba. For some reason, I'm anticipating his reaction. Something about Kaiba makes you want to see him have a bad day, to see circumstances not go his way for once. I'm sure Jounouchi feels the same way, only to an excessive level that would be more than alarming.

After a little while longer, everyone is back _but_ Bakura and Kaiba. The sensei looks nervously at the bus driver and the clock. He starts assigning silent numbers to heads and names. In the end, everyone is accounted for minus two. This isn't good. We should have left thirty minutes ago.

"Where's Kaiba and Bakura-kun?" Anzu asks blankly.

"Not on this bus."

She glares at my reply, but it's the truth. They're not here. They aren't coming either. Whether they ditched us (I don't see why) or Kaiba kidnapped Bakura (it seems somewhat possible), I'm not sure. It had to be voluntary, though, at least on one half. Kaiba would never get lost or miss the bus. His ego wouldn't allow the insult. Therefore, it must have something to do with him. He probably suspected the sensei would cave. If I'd know he took it all so seriously, I would have reconsidered letting Jounouchi protest in front of the museum.

"I don't think they're coming." I say to Yuugi-tachi. It seems I'm taking stating the obvious a tad too far as a few frown at me. That, or it's something they don't want to hear.

Well, gomen, just it like it is.

~!~!~

{A}: Money, kid? Yeah, I just don't believe muggers are really that dramatic when it comes to dialogue (I kinda didn't want dialogue there in the first place, but I felt it clarified the situation). I mean you want their cash, right? What else needs to be said? Victims are not going to feel better about it all if the person who robbed them had a pretty vocabulary. Everything else sounds like a movie line, too dramatic for real life. Believe me, the knife is _enough_. It gets the point across, if you know what I mean.

**Endnote:** Well, I guess I'm too damn caffeinated to know what the hell I'm doing anymore. *people screaming* Of course, I had a reviewer number increase second chapter, if that really _means_ anything. *looks around feeling tired* I'm not even gonna try to rationalize.

~Ling no Yong~


End file.
